


Sooth the Dreams Away

by Yourfirstdoctor



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 8th year, Angst, Emotional Infidelity, F/F, F/M, M/M, Not Epilogue Compliant, Post-War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-14
Updated: 2019-03-14
Packaged: 2019-11-17 21:34:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18106904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yourfirstdoctor/pseuds/Yourfirstdoctor
Summary: Harry Potter struggles to rehab his relationships after his actions during the Battle of Hogwarts. While he and the rest of the survivors heal together, Harry starts to forgive some of his old enemies.





	Sooth the Dreams Away

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic, and I do not have anyone proof reading it.   
> Sorry for any mistakes, but constructive criticism is welcome.

The forest air was damp and earthy to Harry’s nose. The only light came from his lit wand as he stumbled through the Forbidden Forest, his pulse ringing in his ears. Whispers followed him persistently as he tried to find a clearing, some open space to catch his breath. 

_ You can’t run forever Harry… _

He shook his head. He wouldn’t let them catch up.

_ So many dead… Because of you… _

“Stop!” He cried. It wasn’t his fault… He had done everything he could, risked  _ so _ much.

_ You could have saved them. Why didn’t you save them?! _

The whispers grew louder, overlapping and repeating over and over. He covered his ears and continued to run through the forest, his wand light creating monstrous shapes upon the ground as it passed over the tree roots, only causing him to panic more. He continued to run, despite the protesting of his lungs. Slowly, a faint light grew ahead of him, growing stronger as he approached. A patronus?

He stumbled into another clearing, and as his vision focused, his heart sank. It was not a patronus. 

_ Harry.  _

The voice spoke in a whisper, but it was loud enough that even though several yards separated them, Harry heard it as clearly as though they were speaking normally. Sirius didn’t look angry, just disappointed. Behind him were Remus, Tonks, Tonk’s father, Harry’s parents, Fred, and several others who had been lost to Voldemort. They all looked at him with expressions of judgement, sadness, and disappointment. He wanted to shout, to explain, or apologize to them all, but no words would escape his throat.

_ You could have saved us, Harry. _

Harry closed his eyes. He could not bear to hear the accusation in Fred’s voice. Didn’t he understand? Of course he didn’t want any of them to die.

_ Our son Harry… _

_ Teddy… Our Son… _

His eyes flew open, Remus and Tonks were staring at him, their expressions neutral, but their eyes sad. Of course he would take care of Teddy, but he never wanted his godson to be like him, an orphan.

_ All of our friends, Harry… _

_ I was free, Harry… _

_ Who else has to die for you? _

His eyes filled with tears. His parents? Sirius? Didn’t they all know he would have given anything to keep them? 

_ Who else has to die Harry? _

_ Who else Harry? _

_ Harry…? _

_ HARRY? _

_ HARRY?! _

He woke with a start. He was staring into the worried faces of Ron and Hermione, leaning over him, each with a hand on one of his shoulders. He blinked, and tears ran from his eyes into his hairline. He sniffed and cleared his throat. Sitting up, he disentangled himself from his bedsheets and, avoiding the eyes of his best friends, put on his glasses.

“You were yelling your head off, mate.” Ron said, sounding scared. Harry flushed, he didn’t want to have to explain yet another nightmare. He chanced a glance upward. Ron and Hermione were exchanging troubled glances. He sighed.

“Harry, do you want to talk about it…?” Hermione asked, her voice trailing off as she saw his expression. 

“No.” He replied curtly. What would he tell them? How could he explain that everyone he loved and lost blamed him for how they died? They were right to, he knew it. He could have saved them. It was all his fault and he had to live with it for the rest of his life. He didn’t want 

Ron and Hermione to try to persuade him that no one blamed him, as they had tried to when he had brought this up in the past. He knew they were wrong.

“Well…” Hermione hesitated, watching his face carefully. “If you change your mind we’re here.” he didn’t reply. 

“Mum’s made breakfast downstairs, if you’re hungry. She said you could eat it up here if you’re not up for company?” Ron said, patting Harry gently on the shoulder.

“No, I’ll be down in a minute.” grumbled Harry, brushing his unruly hair out of his eyes. Then, in a less grumpy voice, “Thanks Ron… Hermione.”

“It’s no problem Harry.” said Hermione gently. “We’ll see you downstairs, okay?” She and Ron stood, and left the room, shutting the door quietly behind them. He sat for a few moments, staring at the closed door before slowly climbing out of bed. He dressed himself on autopilot, not really paying attention to what he was pulling on. His brain was reliving the dream, the whispers echoing in his ears. It was not the first time he had that dream. His loved ones had visited him in his sleep almost every night in the two weeks since the Battle of Hogwarts. The only nights he did not dream of them, he stayed up through the night, hoping for a reprieve from the disappointment and accusations. He started to leave the room, before catching his reflection in the mirror. He had put his t-shirt on backwards. He sighed and fixed it before leaving the room.

The Burrow was quiet this morning. As he descended the stairs to the kitchen, Harry noticed just how unusually still the house was. He felt a pang of remorse as he realized it was because Fred and George were no longer causing their usual ruckus. George had temporarily closed shop and moved back with the Weasleys, so they could plan Fred’s funeral. After the service, George rarely left their old room. During the rare moments he did, he wandered the Burrow quietly and solemnly, a ghost of his former self. A lump rose to Harry’s throat as he thought of Fred, and he quickly went down the rest of the stairs and pushed the kitchen door open. 

The kitchen was, like the rest of the house, subdued. Mr. Weasley sat at the end of the table, drinking some tea and perusing the Daily Prophet. He looked up and gave a quiet “Good morning Harry.” before returning his focus to the paper in his hands. Mrs. Weasley was busying herself around the stove, serving up some eggs and bacon onto a plate before handing it to Harry.

“Toast, Harry dear?” she asked him, smiling softly. Harry noticed her face was a little puffy. She looked like she had been crying. Harry returned her smile, wincing internally with guilt as he met her eyes.

“Thanks, Mrs. Weasley.” he took the toast and the plate and sat down next to Ron. He was stuffing his face as usual as Hermione looked on with mild disgust. As Harry tucked in, he heard the door open and shuffling footsteps enter the kitchen. He looked up. Ginny had come downstairs, stretching and yawning as she greeted the family. Retrieving her own toast and eggs, she sat down opposite Harry.

“Mo-or-OOOORning” she said to the table, failing to stifle a yawn. Harry grinned. Her hair was a mess. She had cut it short earlier that week and these days, her bed head could rival Harry’s. Not that he was complaining. He found it endearing. 

“Morning Gin. Been letting Pig nest in your hair again?” Harry grinned, reaching over and ruffling her hair affectionately before giving her a peck on the forehead. Ron gagged dramatically. Hermione smiled. Ginny just smirked and leaned over to give Harry a light kiss. She resumed her breakfast and Harry could see that Ron’s ears had gone slightly pink.

“Oi, you two!” Ron protested. “Get a room, would you?” Hermione smacked his arm while Harry and Ginny laughed.

The kitchen settled into a pleasant hum, everyone eating breakfast and chatting amicably. Harry smiled to himself. The first few days after the war had been hard and he had learned to appreciate small moments like this one. Little pockets of time where the world felt normal and right, and it was easier to forget the losses. Crookshanks meowed loudly and wound around Harry’s legs. He looked around the table before sneaking a small piece of bacon under the table, and Crookshanks purred loudly as he ate the treat.

“Are you kids ready to start repairs?” Mr. Weasley asked the room. The four of them groaned. Hogwarts School had sustained heavy damages as a result of the final battle of the war. Most of the returning students from Harry’s year, the seventh years, the teachers, and those who were sentenced to community service after the war were set to start repairs soon. In order for the castle to be ready for that school year, they had to be there nearly every day for the rest of the summer holiday to clean and magically repair the castle walls. No one looked forward to that task. Mrs. Weasley pursed her lips and stood up quickly, cleaning the plates away. Her eyes had a wet look to them, as they often did when Hogwarts was mentioned. Mr. Weasley gave her a brief squeeze before addressing them again.

“Kingsley Shacklebolt has organized a party from the ministry to work with you lot, starting today.” He explained. “I’ll be joining you, as well as Percy, and the other Order Members.” He checked his watch. “Bill and Fleur should be here any moment, and Percy will meet us there.” Seconds later the fireplace lit up with green flames, and Bill and Fleur came spinning into view.

“Morning all!” Bill greeted them while Fleur hugged Mrs. Weasley. “Ready to get going?”  Harry looked at Ron and Hermione. They looked as tired as he felt. Looking at Ginny, she appeared much the same, but they agreed to go upstairs and change. On the way up the stairs, Harry thought he glimpsed George peeking out of his room, but when he made to look again, the door was firmly shut. He changed quickly and went to join the others.


End file.
